


The Case

by fanwork12345



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Gen, Murder Mystery, most of a song of ice and fire characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-09-23 22:29:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20347852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanwork12345/pseuds/fanwork12345
Summary: It's a murder mystery involving the nine families of Westeros.





	1. April

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sooo I have just basically returned to this and reworked it. I mean with everything going on I need a distraction

PART ONE-THE BOAT

Prologue

April

This was a bad idea. Brienne knew this, of course she did. It would be easy to turn back. She kept walking. Doubt, she decided was the worst feeling in the world. It gnawed away at you like a dog with a bone, chewing and gnashing away at your thoughts until they splintered and spiralled out of control. She kept walking. Unfortunately doubt lay in all directions. Would he turn up? What if he didn't? What if this was all a trap? that last one screamed inside her mind, demanding attention. She pushed it aside and kept walking. This territory was unfamiliar and that made her nervous. She should have come North yesterday and checked out the location but of course it had been the anniversary and she couldn't have left her father alone and tomorrow she would be back to her life. Her normal life with no conspiracy, away from the Isle. She kept walking. The chill was more apparent the further North into Moles Town she walked. Was town the right word? It was called that she reasoned yet it seemed less like a town and more like groups of houses, taverns and other less respectable places just sloped against each other in varying states of disrepair. At least this pub was on the outskirts and he had promised it would be empty enough for them to properly talk about their next steps in peace. _Black Betha. _What kind of a name was that for a pub? Doubts again. She was pretty sure one of the Targaryens was named Betha but now that she thought about it Betha didn't really sound like one of their names. Perhaps she could ask her dad when she got back. There was a time when he would have loved to talk of history, especially of the isle. When she was young he had told her and Gal all of the stories and histories of the isle and of course that included the dragons. She turned he corner and there it was. The faded sign showing a beautiful dark-eyed woman with raven tresses( not possessing the classic Valyrian look at all, maybe she had been wrong then?) proclaimed she had in fact arrived.

It had begun to rain. Brienne wasn't superstitious but in her increasing panic and excitement everything seemed like a sign. She had gotten here quicker than she had anticipated. Wiping the rain off her watch she saw it was five to three. _Five minutes to go._ The rain slipped seamlessly from showering to pouring. She thought longingly of her umbrella propped next to the coatrack back at the house. It was now or never. He would be here soon and she could either be there at the table in the booth in the left hand corner by the window as they had agreed at 3o'clock or she could walk away. Then her old friend doubt appeared as if answering a cue. All the doubt she had felt this last year. That the proper criminals were behind bars. That he had gotten the justice he had deserved. That the case had been investigated properly, no stone unturned. That the case had been solved. She kept walking.

The pub was old but rather nice. Or perhaps she had inherited some of the snobbery about the wall and the places that surrounded it. She dismissed that uncomfortable thought and vowed to remain objective. A detective's best mode was neutral. It had dark tables and mismatched chairs in a well lit, clean spacious room with a bar lining the back. At three the lunchtime rush had gone, if it had ever arrived and apart from a drunken old man and two chattering girl who Brienne knew couldn't be old enough to drink legally. Resisting the urge to challenge the bartender, as she was supposed to be keeping a low profile here, she ordered a coke and sat down and waited.

He arrived three minutes late, annoying her. Ordering some ale he sat opposite her. Sergeant Jon Snow looked exactly like the photos she had collected from online. He didn't have a huge social media presence but she had found his face in the background of group photos. This wasn't as comforting as she had hoped. Brienne knew what pretty faces could hide.

"Hello," he said smiling at her, "I was worried you wouldn't turn up." Brienne said nothing. All of this seemed too _real _now. A minute ticked by awkwardly. "Ok, look I'm just going to tell you my idea and we'll go from there. . . so you know about the cruise right? Did you know all nine families are going to be represented on it?"

"Even the Greyjoys?" Brienne asked doubtfully.

"Yeah even them though I bet the others wished otherwise. It's all about unity and welcoming the dragons back into the fold blah, blah, blah so anyway they've been rattled for over a year. They are settling back into complacency or as near as they get to that. And they're all together which hasn't happened since well . . . I don't know. It's the perfect opportunity." he replied excitedly.

"For what?"

"To find out the truth" he declared passionately, " to prove it wasn't the Free Folk." Brienne noted the name he used. Free Folk not Wildlings. Perhaps the rumours were true, he had gone wild during that assignment." They know something. At least one of them does and trust me they can't wait to turn on each other." _Trust me. _As if it as that simple. How would he know what the nine families knew? How they would behave confronted by the police? He was a Snow meaning he was probably born around here in the North without a father around to claim him. The nine families were the most exclusive club in the known world. Jon seemed to read her thoughts.

"Look they didn't do it. There's no way they would do something like that. There was no purpose, just mindless violence. Torching the Red Keep took an _insider_. The fire started in the file room or at east near there, the reports such a mess. Why would they start it there? And what was Renly doing there at that time? No-one knows? There's too many loose ends."

"I agree but without new evidence they won't reopen the investigation or be able to appeal" she countered.

"So we get the evidence."

"How?"

"Like I said the stupid boat, they'll all be there, alcohol abundant. Someone may let something slip. Someone must have seen or heard or concealed something . . . " he trailed off. He's clutching at straws she thought. Disappointment flooded through her body.

"Look Jon" she started gently while simultaneously plotting her escape.

"No. Wait! There's more, I have an informer on the inside" he lowered his voice, "I've been receiving messages for weeks." So this was it. After two months of secretive emails, this was the breakthrough he had spoken of. An informer. An informer on the inside, she wasn't crazy. While these thoughts flashed through her head he took out two photographs and laid them out on the table. Renly Baratheon and Jon Arryn stared up at her. "If you don't want to help me just say now. I don't want to go into details with someone who won't commit. This is the chance." His delivery was even but his tone made sure she knew he was serious. How had she got here? It had nothing to do with her. Yet. Loose ends. She thought about the fire, Renly trapped and helpless, Jon Arryn who bravely charged into the flames to rescue him only for the flames to consume them both, the wildings currently rotting in jail blamed with incredibly questionable evidence. The photographed men seemed to implore her. Doubt, far too many doubts crowded into her mind.

"Why would they let us on the boat? I mean I'm the daughter of a Baratheon vassal but not even the important vassals are invited I know that much and my father isn't that important anyway." she finally said.

"I'll take care of that." he answered evasively.

"How?" she demanded.

"Well Volantis is one of the stops right? That hellhole has sealed it's borders to the mainland and lots of transport is cut off but they'll let the boat stop. They have to. It's the nine families. If there was hypothetically a case of such serious importance involving an isle citizen, well they would ant a police presence from the isle and they would offer transport there." Seeing she was about to interrupt he hurriedly carried on. "The PR would have be to good to miss if it was the right kind of case."

"What do you mean?" she said not liking the direction the conversation was going in.

"Have you heard of Dondarrion? Beric Dondarrion. He's been invited to do some puff piece over there but well he's one of those serious, investigative types. If he was to go missing especially with Volantese affairs in their current state. All the riots, religious unrest and lots of accusations of violations of freedom of speech. I mean the nine families have had those kind of problems. They would love to be seen, supporting the little man, exposing corruption." he snorted as Brienne looked at him in horror.

"Missing?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Oh he would be fine, I mean you don't think I would. .

"How would I know?" she snapped, "this is the first time we've met."

"No." he said, "I mean I know but we're in this together. We have to have a certain level of trust. Dondarrions good for this. His finances are a mess. His dad cut him off when he said he was going to pursue journalism and it's not nearly as lucrative as it used to be that industry so for some money he'll disappear. He knows how. I mean after the Lightning serial. So he vanishes, by then you'll have transferred here, we'll be partnered and get the case and we're on the boat. We contact with the informer and observe all of them, cooped together like in a zoo. Something is bound to come up. I mean you don't need to worry about it, I have some er connections."

Brienne could only stare . It seemed like an awful lot of things to go in a certain way for it completely possible for nothing to happen. But there was an informer and the loose ends. Sh looked at Renly's photo, is handsome face smiled back at her in that easy manner he had. Of course she was imagining the manner as photos couldn't show manners, No, he would never show that easy, lovely smile again. All that was left was photos, a pale imitation. She didn't owe him anything, not really. But it would haunt her, the doubt. Was he murdered? What really happened that night? Why blame the wildlings? She had come too far.

"I'm in."

When she got back to the house she asked her father about Betha. "She was Aegon Targaryen's wife." he said sounding tired. Silence descended again. 


	2. Alysanne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne and Jon prepare to board the ship and meet a few of the potential suspects.  
A month later.

The sea looked beautifully calm through the window of the Golden Rose café. Brienne looked back down at her deconstructed, overpriced sandwich which she was pretty sure was 80% kale. Why had she even ordered it? She felt sick.

"Sorry about this place but it's close to boarding and that's only an hour away so I thought this would be best." Jon said, shuffling the papers in front of him, his own identical plate untouched.

"It's lovely" Brienne said politely whilst privately reminding herself that for any future meetings happening around mealtimes she would insist on choosing the location. She looked straight ahead at him avoiding the hypnotic blue haze to the east.

It had all gone mostly to plan defying all odds. She had put in for a transfer, transfer granted. Jon's partner, a girl named Karstark had gone on maternity leave a few weeks ago and the Chief Kevan Lannister had paired them together. Then like clockwork Dondarrion had disappeared. It was still shocking to see his face plastered on the front pages of the newspapers, even the Seven propaganda one which rarely strayed from religious teachings and commenting on moral degradation had run a spread on him, detailing how his apparent associations with R'hllor had led to his disappearance. He vanished on the third of July and Volantis like Jon had said had refused to lift the ban to allow trains or aeroplanes or cars to transport the two law officers in charge of the case of the isle citizens mysterious disappearance. Volantese officials declared they had put their best people on it but the rumours still spread like poison about their government's involvement. To avoid diplomatic tensions and the threats of further sanctions, they had agreed to the compromise of them being dropped off by the "Unity tour" as dubbed by the media. Brienne still couldn't believe it. It was like this was happening to someone else.

"Ok" Jon continued, "I mean we discussed the plans, who's got who and so on. Though I think improvisation is key, I mean this will be weeks of them cooped together and tensions will be high . . ." she had heard all this before, memorised every single email between them. She had spent the interval of time preparing, reading up on the histories she had forgotten to get background on the nine families and basic information of the people that were getting on the boat. Suddenly it all seemed futile, how can you prepare for something this? The informer, she reminded herself grabbing onto the thought like it was a lifeline. They knew something. They had too, else why write those notes to Jon? It could be a joke a small voice in her head countered or a hoax or one of them could-

"Brienne?" Jon interrupted the doubt train barrelling to panic station. She focused back on him smiling apologetically.

"Brienne I have something to tell you." he blurted out looking shiftily away. Alarm bells rang in her head. When had anyone ever followed that sentence with good news. "Look I didn't want you to react badly. I wasn't sure if you knew, not many people do. I mean its my private business and I would never let it bias" Brienne cut through the babble.

"Tell me."

"Well I guess you've been wondering about my well my connections." She hadn't at that moment but it had occurred to her before. She assumed he had meant Mormont who ran the station at the wall. " Well,"( he had a habit of doing that she noted, peppering his sentences with filler words) " remember when you asked me about my family and I didn't really answer." They had been partners for a week so had exchanged the pleasantries and she had noticed he was evasive but she had already assumed that his background as a Northern bastard held some unhappy memories. Truthfully she had been more preoccupied with evading his questions about _her _family. Coldness seeped through her as the pieces began to slot together. Why did she make all of these assumptions? " See the man who raised me, who's my dad, his names Benjen and he is my father but he's not in the biological sense/

"Who is your father Jon?" she asked firmly, pining his grey eyes to hers. Of course. She knew now where she had seen those features before. She didn't need him to answer, she knew now.

"Eddard Stark." he said quietly. She clenched her kale sandwich in her hand.

"Brienne. Detective it doesn't matter. I mean you're the daughter of Tarth." he pointed out. _It's not the same _she wanted to yell. You knew. Ned Stark was the HEAD of the house, one of the suspects. Her father was a vassal and a small, unimportant one at that. Jon seemed to be following her train of thought. Sergeant Snow she mentally corrected in her mind. He opened his mouth but before he could speak she stood up. "I need some air. I'll be back." she said like she was on autopilot and walked out without looking back.

At least he didn't follow me, she thought. There was only a limited amount of time to get out of this. Her biggest problem was her luggage already boarded on the ship. How could she get it back? Thoughts raced through her mind as she tried to figure out how to backpedal out of this. Without realising she had walked to the only stretch of beach in the Reach, the small Redwyne Cove. The sea spread out on the sands so much more calmer and welcoming than the shipbreaker bay she was used too. It was so beautiful. Yet it was the same sea that had swallowed her brother alive and spat him out dead. It was also a light bluey-green here, like Renly's eyes. She could see him now smiling at her at that stupid dance, the memory engraved in her mind. _One great act of kindness. _One positive side effect of the incident is she had forced herself to confront her fear about the sea. She stood there, the water sloshing around her ankles looking at the horizon. She had come this far. So what if Sergeant Stark wasn't entirely to be trusted? She hadn't been completely honest about her motives. And the breakthroughs. This was the only shot.

Sea water squelched around in her trainers uncomfortably as she made her way back to the café. The sea air still whipped in her face, stinging her nostrils making her irrationally long for a cigarette. Once she arrived she saw the table was empty and checking her watch she realised a lot more time had passed than she thought. The streets were deserted so Brienne guessed that the inhabitants had gone to wave off Alysanne, the residents were treating the event like it was the Titanic. The stupid sea had cast it's stupid hypnotic spell and now she was in this stupid position of nearly being late. She walked briskly back along towards the direction of the port. As she walked past the green painted Fossoway house, a voice floated out between the small alley separating that house and the scarlet coloured next door. The words "boarding soon" jolted her back into reality. Eavesdropping rarely produced concrete results yet there was a desperate edge to the girls tone that caught her attention so she paused before the mouth of the alley. "Yeah," the voice continued "I have maybe a few minutes but still Ty I can't be late. Stupid press y'know." The voice was trying to seem upbeat but Brienne could sense the false cheerfulness beneath. "Well of course Ty, that's brilliant, I erm congratulations on finding one. Look you can throw them all away. . . yes I'm sure. The photos aren't important, I told you, I don't know what I was thinking. I'll sort it." she laughed unconvincingly "I have to go now, I don't need another lecture from dad especially in front of Quentyn so bye and promise you'll destroy them, it's important." She stressed the last word and hung up. Brienne made a split second decision by restarting her strides as if she was just passing by thinking it would be better than the girl exiting the alley and finding her there loitering around by herself. Brienne stuck some earphones in as she strode away, using her long legs to put as much distance between them. She needn't have bothered for when the curiosity had burned away at her so much to confirm her suspicion of who it was by glancing back, the girl wandered behind her in an unseeing daze.

The port was heaving. People from all sectors of the island had gathered, milling around the stalls decorating the walkway selling everything from ale to fluffy lemon cakes to "Unity" and "Alysanne" merchandise. She shoved her way to the front and came face to face with the Hound. Her research on him had not gleaned much but his distinctive burned face made him recognisable in any situation. "Photograph time is over lady." Brienne ignored the lady and his rude tone and followed him to the gate out of hearing distance of the heaving masses who remained behind the rope.

"I'm a passenger."

"Why the fuck have I never seen you before then? Hey Waters, bring the list." A young man approached with a clipboard and Brienne felt a slap of shock as she took in his features. He looked so like Renly, it was like time had not only frozen but rewound 15 years.

"Hey what's wrong with you? Gods, why do these things always attract weirdos. Get her out of here." the Hounds gruff tone pierced through her shock, deflating it like a balloon. "No, I am a passenger, I'm Detective Tarth." she muttered, flushing at what a fool she must look, standing there gaping like a fish washed up on the beach.

"She's on the list, no wait her names crossed out. Does that mean she's already boarded or . ." Waters said looking confused.

"Oh for fucks sake, hand it here." the Hound growled, snatching the list. "Your partner said you weren't coming some family emergency or something. Oh so you finally decided to show up then?" Arianne Martell stepped up beside her with a slightly distant expression. She had dark rings under her eyes and her dark curls had come undone from its plait making it look slightly wild but she was still one of the most beautiful people Brienne had ever seen. "What's going on?" her accented voice asked, no longer full of distress.

"We were supposed to leave seven minutes ago. Are you listening?" The Hound gave her a look of disgust as two passengers stumbled to the top of the walkway from the third tier balcony. Brienne had cleared enough of the streets on the beat to recognise drunkenness. The taller one had definitely been drinking and the other at first she thought was a child due to his size but as they descended down the ramp towards them she recognised them. _The Lannister brothers. _Tyrion greeted them politely. "I see the ladies have arrived, so are we ready to go? My father is becoming impatient."

"Wait," his brother interrupted "who are you?" he meant to point, Brienne was pretty sure at her as she was the stranger yet his body was no longer synchronised with his commands so he ended up waving his arm around in an aimless direction. "How pissed is he?" demanded the Hound angrily. Brienne wondered if he was ever not angry.

"I'm sorry, he has a lower tolerance than I thought and I had to get him on here somehow. This is preferable to the kidnap option surely, though we may have to resort to that now." Tyrion answered him and beckoned them to climb the walkway. Brienne looked at Jamie and smiled at him encouragingly. Perhaps he was nervous at sea or greensick. She may no longer fear the sea but she understood and felt great kinship with those to who it caused discomfort. She was about to suggest some breathing exercises or some remedies when Jamie looked down at her and began to laugh. "A woman. Look Tyrion. Well not a lady though, no a wench. Ha, a wench." he chuckled to himself whilst Tyrion looked at her, his eyes apologetic. Her heart began to race and the tell-tale flush crept over her cheeks, which in turn made her feel more awkward and out of place.

"I'm sorry, too much alcohol." Tyrion explained again, raising his voice over the Hound's snort, " He really doesn't mean to be rude." His point would have been a lot more convincing if his brother wasn't muttering "women" with a sour expression. At this point an olive-skinned boy appeared at the top of the ramp and came bounding down. "Ari, there you are, come on dad's waiting." Brienne thanked the gods this awkward encounter could finally be over.

"Right well if you pull this again at one of the ports I'm telling Onion to fucking go anyway, do you get it? We aren't going to wait around for you, princess." the Hound warned her.

"What about little birds, will you wait for them? They're beautiful this time of year aren't they?"Arianne asked her voice suddenly sharp. Brienne clocked the reactions. The hound went still, Jamie continued to stare off into the blue-green depths and a flash of surprise mingled with curiosity swept over Tyrion's face. The boy (who she deduced must be Arianne's brother) and was looking increasingly uncomfortable pointed out that it was now fifteen minutes past departure time.

"Get on then and go and do whatever you people do all day." the Hound snapped. They all walked up onto the ship while Tyrion chattered mildly about how it took an awful lot of effort to do what he and Jamie did all day and part of their natural talent was making it seem effortless. When they got to the top the Hound stormed off with Waters following and the Martells walked away talking in a language she had never heard of. "I think your quarters will be on the bottom deck" Tyrion offered helpfully. "Yeah that's where they put the help." his brother added. Declining offers of assistance she made her way down to the lowest level and there was Sergeant Snow, her suitcase in hand. He quickly rearranged his features but she saw the brief flash of shock. So he thought she would bail. He led her to a small room with twin beds. "So we have to share." she said, stating the obvious. "Yeah but we have an en-suite so we have a little privacy. It's just because of the last minute thing. They might be able to find something else tomorrow. It's all a bit up in the air. I didn't think you were coming to be honest. I was bringing your luggage to leave outside." She could hear the relief in his voice.

There was a short pause. "I meant what I said Sergeant Snow," she responded in a measured tone, ignoring his wince at the returned use of his rank, "I'm in. So what's our strategy for tonight?"

It was only later, after that first night while she lay listening to Sergeant Snow gently snore across the room, did she realise she hadn't thought about the sea or Gal or her father for hours.


	3. The Review

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Brienne review the case up to that point.

"So where are we up to with the samples?" she asked him, wanting to get to business. The informer had started sending Sergeant Stark the notes in January. They were all the same, one A5 sheet in beautiful cream envelopes delivered to his home once a month. Crucially they were handwritten. When Sergeant Snow had spread them on the table of the Black Betha, Brienne wasn't sure what to think. Why would they write it themselves? Handwriting could be verified by experts, the public knew that, so why take that risk? Sergeant Snow's assumption that the person would never expect them to get this close to the families didn't quite sit right with her. It was flimsy.

"I only just settled in." he protested, "is that my name then. Snow? Should I start calling you Tarth? Or detective?"

"Call me what you like Serge." she answered sweetly. There was no way she was going to just forget the huge revelation he had dumped on her, with _less than an hour _before the ship left.

"O.K detective. I checked for bugs so it should be ok to talk." Brienne wasn't sure if he was serious but he had already started spreading files across one of the beds so she turned around and locked the door. They went over the case file that they had complied together. Neither of them had actually been assigned to the case of the Red Keep fire so they were forced to be a little creative. There had been waves upon waves of media attention and speculation, lumping facts and fiction together. The fire occurred on the morning of the 1st of March last year and by the next day the press had sunken its claws into the story. It was very newsworthy. The Red Keep was the nine families meeting place and stood at the heart of the isle since Maegor had commissioned it over 250 years ago. It had been a complete shock and when it was leaked that accelerant had been found on the premises there had been a public outcry of outrage. Even the enemies of them had been surprised, the Red Keep was a part of the island as much as the natural landscape but none of it could be saved. Renly Baratheon had gone in only minutes before, (the guard had been vague exactly when and the security cameras had been destroyed) and not a single person could offer a reason why he would go at such a late hour. There were only two guards on the night shift that commenced at eight o'clock and one had developed the habit of sneaking away to meet his mistress for a few hours every few days. The other guard who had been enjoying some Netflix show finally noticed the fire and rang the fire brigade when Jon Arryn ( who had ben walking nearby, again no one knew why at such a late hour) came running up, eager to assist and on learning someone was inside ran in to help. Neither survived. 

The investigation took 3 months before arrest. Yet everyone seem to have predicted already who the culprit was. It had been admittedly Brienne first thought too as The Free Folk ( the groups preferred name over the derisive Wilding Scum the papers used) had a long standing dispute with the families and it was common knowledge that the new leader Mance Rayder who had taken over 10 years ago had extreme views. The movement had been scattered a few months before thanks to Operation Ghost which involved the person sat a couple of inches away going undercover and infiltrating them to the highest levels. It was the wildfire that had sealed their fate. once the fire reached the basement it had exploded. A forensic search of the collapsed mess had found that it had only been a trace amount, but a trace was enough. Wildfire had been part of the Free Folk's _big plan_ to take down the wall, the papers shrieked, just months before but now that Operation Ghost had stopped their acts of terrorism, they had taken it one step further and destroyed the heart of Westeros just a few months later. The case had captured Brienne's attention since she had seen his face on the front pages and she had followed it obsessively. In the mainland* the papers and social media reported on it as the nine were almost like royalty there. Any idiot could see where the investigation was headed yet Brienne had doubts. It was when a cannister of wildfire was found at the home Qarl and Val, Mance's goodsister that her uneasiness finally became a coherent thought, rather than a background emotion. It felt like when in one of the Poirot or Marple T.V early evening specials (that she and her dad watched together as their pastime) the murderer planted evidence on another, more obvious suspect. The murderer had gotten over-confident, thinking they could further deceive law enforcement or they got nervous and tried to deflect attention from themselves or change the course of the investigation. Why would Jarl and Val keep it? Why would they use wildfire anyway, a substance banned since Aerys time? What were the free folk trying to prove? Was it just a random act of terrorism? So much doubt. It was enough for the Kings Landing PD to issue warrants anyway. She had written to the chief of the KLPD, Kevan Lannister, detailing her concerns but all she had received was a dismissal. A courteous, polite and well written email telling her to basically mind her own business. 

The accused stared up at her from the duvet. Accused was the wrong word, she thought. The right word was _convicted. _Imprisoned for about a year now. The prosecution claimed that the fire had been carried out by 4 participants and their ringleader Mance Rayder who escaped capture but the other four weren't so lucky. They were arrested, charged and rushed to trial for a media circus. They didn't stand a chance. Renly had been charming and well-liked, Jon respected and trusted and these four had killed them trying to destroy the symbol of Westeros Co. using wildfire of all things. Wildfire epitomised a darker time, when Aerys controlled the biggest company in the known world and abused his power in horrific ways. The very mention of it riled the vassal crowds that congregated in the courtroom to watch the proceedings. Even if they had defended themselves,( which they refused to do but silence in Brienne's mind didn't equal guilt), the four would have had an uphill struggle. They got 25 years each. 

It was the informer that had stoked the embers of doubt into a roaring fire. Up until that point all she had was questions, watching the news and following the story. She kept a notice board in her apartment which her roommate had named the serial killer board. "It looks like something a serial killer would have Brie. Y'know like in one of the movies. He has pictures of his victims and everything." she said. " No. It's what dedicated detectives have in the movies when solving a case." Brienne had replied, a little stung as it had taken her a long time to create and keep tidy with the constant additions. "Yeah but usually aren't they on the case? " she had countered. To be fair it was in the living room and "their" space but still, it wasn't as if it was well-used before. Brienne had promised she'd take it down for new year which she did as she always tried to keep promises. When Alys had come into her room, looking for her straighteners and saw it, she sighed and rolled her eyes. "This wasn't what I meant." At least she had left Brienne and her obsession to herself though there had been a lot of eye-rolling to put up with. But then a few weeks later, almost like a reward Sergeant Snow's first email arrived. . . .

There were 6 envelopes in total. The first described how Sergeant Snow was onto something and the corruption of the families had to be exposed. He had ignored it as some conspiracy, anti-capitalist hack. The second however contained details only someone in the inner circle of Westeros Co. would know. How the security cameras had been turned off before the wildfire had destroyed them. How that can only happen if someone knows the password. The people who knew the password were on this boat. Again it was possible the Free Folk had gotten hold of it._ Possible. _That didn't mean it was the truth. That's when he had begun emailing her. The third one had been just been a picture of Ygritte from her police file with nonsense written on the back. The fourth had been the name Abel Smith which they had discovered was the name of a janitor that the police suspected had FF sympathies and helped smuggle in the wildfire. No one had heard from him since. The fifth was the name of the guard that had actually been around : Hugh Stone. The sixth was the strangest yet. All nine logos of the families drawn neatly on one side, with the music written on the back. They had made copies and put the originals in storage.

"So. Dinner. I've been thinking we're not on this boat long. One, we need to get writing samples and Two, alcohol." Sergeant Snow said.

"Alcohol?" she questioned dubiously.

"Yeah. We need to make sure it's flowing. Trust me. When they all came to Winterfell a few years ago. I mean you could cut the tension with a knife. Especially the Baratheons I mean with Robert bellowing insults and Cersei becoming more and more snide with every glass of wine . . .a lot of them can't stand each other. If we can someone how make the fire the topic of discussion somethings bound to come out. They always think they can pay off the "help." It was weird to Brienne to hear him talk about them so intimately. He had been to Winterfell. That shouldn't have been surprising but the idea of him growing up there was jarring. Brienne was also unsure about the whole ply the suspects with alcohol idea. Drunkenness wasn't usually like it was portrayed in the movies. There was rarely heart-stopping confessions or a sudden burst of morality to suddenly tell the truth. Usually it involved vomit and weeping. _Don't be so judgemental Brie. _She could hear Alys' words echo in her head as she had said it enough times. Brienne was sure it was her catchphrase.

"I thought perhaps with the handwriting thing, we could ask them about Dondarrion. I mean I know he kind of broke himself off from the whole company but they must of known him before so some of them will have to contribute." she suggested.

"Oh I wouldn't count on it. They'll expect us to take notes. Some of them are unbelievably lazy and surprisingly unhelpful when there's no camera around." he replied flicking through the papers and selecting one.

"Oh, ok." She said, a little stung at such a quick rejection of what she thought was quite a solid idea. I mean how lazy could these people be? They earned billions together.

Stuffing the rest of the papers back into the box, he gave her the single sheet. "This is all the passengers including crew. Now Sam says at dinner he's been briefed that all the help eat I the corner near the kitchen. I'm not exactly sure what category we fit under. Guest probably but tonight I say you sit with them."

"Sam. Like Sam Tarly?" she asked suspicious. He promised he hadn't involved anyone else.

"Not down to me. I swear. He needs the money and they're paying him shedloads to tutor the kids. Their tutor got some break in his research or something and couldn't come. He doesn't know about this." 

"So you're sitting with your . . family then?"

"Yes." he muttered looking incredibly miserable about it. All the glow of talking about the investigation seemed to drain out of him and his eyes seemed somehow darker than they had been a few seconds ago. "I'd invite you but . . well I think it's good to maybe get some of the staff on side. " Brienne decided to allow the Segway in conversation as he really did seem down and all the talk of dinner reminded her that her last meal had been that tasteless kale sandwich which he must have payed for as she had stormed out. True he deserved to pay after the stunt he had pulled but she also knew how it felt to just want to _not _talk about family. The staff idea was a good one in theory but in practice she wasn't feeling confident. People had always used such creative vocabulary to describe her but they had never once used the word charming.

A bell rang throughout the ship. Dinnertime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.  
*mainland is basically a place I made up. I think it's just going to be the U.k maybe mixed with America. The idea s that westeros isn't a continent, it's much smaller only inhabited by the super rich one end and the much poorer beyond and around the wall. I wanted Brienne to be working away from the island so I don't have to do expositional dumps like this chapter all the time and to show just how exclusive the island is. I also didn't want her to be working in essos in case of one of my future endings to work. It probably won't be very important. It's a bland place compared to other two, located above essos in the shivering sea, close to the island. It probably won't come up much but I just wanted to clarify in case any were confused.  
The realtionships will be relatively minor and a slow burn but some will develop and become more important as the story moves forward.  
I HAVE MADE SOME CHANGES HERE TO THE INFORMER.


	4. The kitchen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Brienne go to dinner and meet a lot of the other characters

The boat had 5 levels. Alysanne had a ring of outer decking on the top two. They climbed up the stairs and came out onto the bow of ship of the second one. "I'll have to get the code for the lift." the sergeant mumbled.

"Why's there a code if everyone knows it?" she inquired. It seemed unnecessary.

"Look, whenever they do something weird, just blame it on the money." It was strange how he said _them _as if he wasn't one of them. Perhaps he wasn't. Bastards had caused the Westeros company and the nine families a lot of difficulties since its conception. Depending on where you were born and to which family was resulted mostly in how you were treated. Brienne had met a few over the years along with some of the vassals. Tarth used to be quite important in the Baratheon holdings. Margaery Tyrell's beautiful face came to mind as did Renly's and she remembered his brothers too though not as well. But she wasn't one of them.

They came out on to the front deck and walked along the port side and walked through the door. "I think it's this way." he said. It was the kitchen.

It was an L-shaped, bright room, painted white. A fat, middle-aged woman was instructing her helper on how to arrange the salads.

"Who are you?" she demanded, her voice tight with stress, "Who are they?"

The young woman who seemed much calmer answered for them. "I think they're the police ones. Y'know the last-minute stowaways. This is the kitchen. You want the other entrance, round back I think. I mean are you sitting with them?"

"Where's the guest table?" asked Brienne.

"Guest - what is she talking about? Willow, less yapping and get those cucumber flowers. Guest table? I don't have time for this! Have you filled out your menu options. Just until Volantis?" the older lady said, her voice quick and sharp.

"I knew I forgot something" admitted the sergeant ruefully. Willow smiled at him and gave them two lists.

"Where is that Lyseni girl? Layabouts the lot of them. I knew we shouldn't have hired. . . . " the older woman began to explain the many issues involving employing people from Lys whilst furiously arranging salads. She was quite the multi-tasker. "I mean they could have given more notice. All these staff changes and then you two. I mean beg your pardon but it's so last minute. But Oh Masha she goes it's only two extra. I mean two! I had to ask Salla for the last minute supplies. Oh I know he ripped us off but of course the captain defends him. Salla, y'know I think he may be from Lys. Oh make sure you get some ginger. Lysa's, I mean Mrs.Arryn's latest fad." Brienne struggled to keep up with Masha's train of thought.

"Are you having tea with us then?" Willow asked cheerfully interrupting her," Or are you sitting with them?" Before they could reply, the door connecting to the dining room across the room opened and a young woman with copper coloured skin and dark hair came through, brining a few woven baskets. " Three want some more rolls." she said, her accent eastern and her voice hesitant. "The bird lady is worried about the sauce for the . . main course. She thinks it might be bad for her boy's . . . . constitution."

"Irri you really should learn their names." Willow chided gently.

"Oh don't bother the girl. We all know what we signed up for with her and that boy. I'll have to listen about that boy's never ending health problems until my ears fall off. I'm pretty sure that's what half our - Oh Jeyne there you are. Have you seen the Lyseni girl?" A tall, brown-haired girl strode in behind Brienne and Jon accompanied by a smaller, petite woman with dark hair.

"She's talking to the Targaryens" Irri spoke up. Shae snorted.

"By the seven! Jeyne take the bread and bring her in here." The tall girl left with the baskets. "Shae, I need you to help out. Irri tell Lys-" Masha was interrupted again by another young woman entering from the dining room, but she wasn't a waitress. Margaery Tyrell had barely changed. Still the same brown curling cloud of hair framing her lovely face with its shy, sweet smile. "Hello, sorry to interrupt. I was wondering if I could be of any help? " She spotted Brienne and her face brightened. Brienne knew it was ridiculous but it gave her a surge of pleasure to know she remembered her. Since she was young Brienne had known she was one of the ugliest girls in the known world and that in itself was an identifier that many remembered her by, but it was sill nice to think Margaery recognised her when she must meet hundreds of people a year through her charity work. "Brienne, I've just heard it was you on here. I was going to come and look for you. Please, come and sit with us?" Brienne looked at Jon. "Oh your partner must come too." she added.

The sergeant explained he was sitting with his family but Brienne accepted receiving another smile. "I don't mean to be rude," Masha said in a tight but very polite voice, "but this is a kitchen. Irri tell Mrs.Arryn I can do it with no sauce or he can have chicken." Jeyne came in, followed by a pretty blonde girl with a bright smile.

"Oh I'm sorry. Are you sure I can't assist in anyway?" Margaery persisted.

"No. Thank you Margaery." Masha said nicely but Jeyne rolled her eyes. They followed Margaery through the door into a large sky blue and white room filed with nine rounded tables arranged in three rows of three. She followed Margaery along to the middle one on port side covered with a bright green tablecloth and embroidered with beautiful golden roses. Margaery made introductions even though Brienne knew them all from the file. "Loras, sit round there so Brienne can have a view."

"No, that's fine." she insisted and slipped onto a chair, her back facing the open sea. Their table was closest to the double glass doors which she guessed was the correct entrance. They all exchanged pleasantries over there salads, which did little to abate her hunger. However prettily Masha dressed them up, the content was still similar to her earlier kale pile. Doreah (or at least that's what her nametag stated) circled around them, pouring copious amounts of wine in their glasses. When Brienne tried to refuse, she flashed her a dazzling smile and flipped her blonde hair out of her face. "Trust me. It's lovely." The Tyrell's were like one of those families from those expensive magazines with more photos than words. They smiled a lot and laughed with each other. Margaery sat to her left, next to her tiny, shrunken grandmother who was doing a crossword ignoring her son's rather mindless chattering at her side. His wife Alerie was blonde instead of brown-haired but her children still looked like her, especially her daughter. Next to her sat Loras and Willas. _Two. _The Tyrell's had three sons, not two. When there had been a murder on the Orient Express, no - one had been allowed to leave, Garlan hadn't even turned up. Too many moving parts, too much out of their control. Be positive, a voice which sounded suspiciously like Alys told her. Two out of three wasn't bad considering the crime was over a year ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All mistakes are mine (I don't know a lot about boats).


	5. Dinnertime

Brienne studied the room as subtlety as she could. The Tyrell's were discussing something to do with the foundation and she had slipped from their attention. The room was large, painted sky blue and white and contained nine round tables and a smaller one, tucked away in the alcove that the kitchen created. Brienne guessed that was the guest one she had been rescued from. There were 9 great families. Everyone knew that. They were the largest corporation in the Western, arguably the known world. It seemed however that despite the "unity" trip, none wanted to mingle. As far as she could tell they all sat at their own tables. To her direct left, a sky blue table with a blue falcon and pure white moon adorned on its tablecloth, its colours matching the walls perfectly, which had room to seat ten like the others but only occupied by two. A harried looking woman fussing over a pale, sickly teenage boy._ Lysa and Robin. _Over in the far right corner sat the Starks. There's was much more full, Eddard and his wife and their four children and Jon. Brienne could see him, laughing with his dark haired sister. Before the starters had been served there had been a bit of a fanfare as Edmure Tully, deciding it was ridiculous him sitting all by himself, he tried to merge his blue and red table with his neighbour. "Edmure, by the seven, just bring your chair if you have too." Catelyn told him, her voice rang sharply across the din of the room and Edmure went as red as his hair in the awkward pause that followed it before general talk resumed. Olenna had rolled her eyes and muttered "idiot." as Edmure dragged a chair over to the Starks. Brienne noticed that although they all sat chatting and laughing from a distance she saw Catelyn flicking anxious looks towards her sister. To her direct right was the Baratheons, their table cloaked with gold with prancing black stags. _Crowned stags. _There had been a lot of controversy over that, back then. Her father's lord, the majority owner sat there gulping down the wine Doreah had so enthusiastically recommended. His brother sat opposite, in discussion with a woman with dark red hair. _Two brothers. It should be three._ She knew from her research who the red woman was. It had been a while since her father had discussed business affairs with her or anyone and she had been surprised to learn Stannis Baratheon had fallen under the spell of some Red priestess. His wife was there too and his daughter but Cersei and her children were sat at the Lannister table straight ahead of her. That was not entirely shocking, it was common knowledge that their marriage was strained. Cersei herself was studiously ignoring her other half, her golden curls catching the light of the chandeliers shining light. She sat with her brothers who were also still enjoying the wine, three golden haired children and father, whose cool green eyes caught Brienne's. She felt herself flush, and then immediately went a shade redder as she thought about herself flushing. The vicious cycle of blushing. Why were they sat in the centre anyway? It was the Baratheon's who had taken over, why weren't they in the middle? Or the Targaryens as the guest of honour? Brienne looked at her glass, it was full, even though she hadn't asked for a refill. Was this her second or third? Too much wine she thought, pushing her glass away. No wonder she had this babbling inner-monologue. Table arrangements? What did that matter? She focused on eating her rather delicious main, which finally satisfied her hunger. Finally something that wasn't just kale. She saw Shae clearing away their plates and noted that she caught Tyrion's eye for a second longer than normal. To The Lannister's left sat the Martell's, their vibrant red suns and golden spears weren't matched by the atmosphere. The two boys were sat with their back to Brienne so she couldn't be sure but she hadn't seen any of them exchange barely two words to each other in the last hour. Doran Martell looked half dead and refused most of what he was offered by the eager waitresses. Arianne sat to his left, looking drawn, mostly moving things around on her plate instead of consuming them. _Like father, like daughter. _

Her phone chimed out the generic jingle it came with pre-programmed, interrupting her observations. _Rose. _She ignored the call and switched it to silent, repressing a pinprick of guilt. That could wait.

"Oh I love lemon cakes, don't you? Oh we've been boring you haven't we? You're far too polite Brienne, we are terrible hosts. Please take the call if you have too." Alerie babbled cheerfully.

"No, it's just my roommate." Brienne lied," And I'm having a lovely time." Half-true, they were very kind and the food was delicious but she wasn't learning anything of real use." To be honest I didn't know where I was going to sit. . ."

"You weren't going to sit with the Starks?" Margaery interjected.

"No- I think Sergeant Snow wanted some time alone with his family." she replied a little lamely. She didn't want him to seem rude but he hadn't offered and had given no excuse.

"Well then I'm your knight in shining armour." Margaery smiled proudly, tossing her hair. "I saved you from Varys and Petyr, at the guest table."

"Yes, a fate worse than death having to spend time with those two." Loras chimed in and his siblings laughed, too loudly Brienne thought.

"Where are they?"

"Back in that alcove, next to the kitchen. To the left of the Targaryen table." Willas supplied courteously. Past the Martell's silence, and to the left of a pair of silver haired people was a small table where four men sat. She was pleased to see that she recognised all four: Samwell Tarly, Pycelle, Varys and Petyr Baelish. "What's that about the dragons?" Olenna asked, cupping her ear. _Dragons. You don't hear that word often, not in that context, especially in this company. _Robert had made it clear how he felt about the Targaryens and mentions of them and associations could make him fly into a rage. She remembered even now Aerys' face on the television, it contorted as if he was in pain. "I am a dragon, you hear me a DRAGON." his voice seemed to take on an inhuman quality on that last word. It was said that was why he became so obsessed with wildfire, because he thought he was a dragon. It had seemed a bit of a joke, her father had told her, back then. Him being so obsessed with his sigil, he wasn't the first and many nicknames had resulted in the families and their symbols. Brienne wondered exactly when people realised it was more than a joke, that his fixation would lead him to do and plan unthinkable things. It was like he was some kind of natural disaster that split everyone's lives in two, a before him and after he was gone. 

"You girl, where's the cheese?" Olenna demanded of Doreah.

"The cheese will be served after-" she started brightly.

"The cheese will be served when I want it to be served." Olenna interrupted in a tone that brokered no argument. Doreah's smile flickered only for an instant and she almost ran towards the kitchen. "I'm pretty sure they're made out of Dornish lemons." she said,poking at the little cakes. There was an ugly inflection on the word Dornish. So, there was still some bad blood between the Martell's and Tyrells, Brienne filed the thought away for later.

"Well I rather like them mother." Alerie said, glancing at her eldest.

"So, what do you think of it Brienne? Months of planning. We would love a non-biased opinion." Margaery asked her, gesturing to their surroundings. Brienne saw that she was trying to change the subject but she took the bait.

"I think it's very lovely." That was a safe word. Opulent was her first thought but she didn't want them to think she thought they were wasteful. "They're Arryn's colours right?" she hedged, thinking she could perhaps steer the conversation to something of value. Doreah bought the cheese, bright smile perfected again.

"Yes I know it's not very appealing is it? So cold and clinical. Like I'm in Qyburns surgery." Her voice along with the others had started to rise as dinner came to an end and it was clear it wasn't just the Lannister brothers that had overindulged in the wine. The room was much louder but the Arryns were only one table away, surely Lysa could hear? " But it's not like we could stop her , I mean if it's for _beloved _Jon." Her last comment gained a snigger from Loras, who had definitely drunk the most. Brienne forced herself not to react, finally they were on the right track. "Oh so it's like a memorial." she ventured, not wanting to press it.

"Yes, Lysa was very insistent. I mean we had these whole plans with Tywin's approval of course." Mace began importantly, "I mean she was invited like the rest of us of course but she didn't turn up until the third or fourth meeting and well, I mean you can't argue with a grieving widow. " Loras snorted, an ugly expression crossed his beautiful face.

" Jon was an important asset to the community and an integral part of the fabric of our company. To reflect his role we decided to honour his role by using his colours in this communal space." Willas finished smoothly. It sounded, Brienne thought as if he was making some official statement. Their guard was back up. She glanced around the room again, hoping to signal Doreah for some coffee but she was all the way across the room, leaning against the Targaryen table. Brienne wondered if there was some kind of memorial for Renly on the ship.

Just when Brienne thought this whole night was going to be a lost cause Loras burst out hotly, "He wasn't the only one to die in that fire. Where's Renly's recognition? He died too or has everyone forgotten?" It was eerie that she had just been thinking the same thing only a moment earlier. Loras did seem quite distressed, with flushed cheeks and shining eyes. _Tears. _Of course, Brienne reasoned they had been great friends. She looked over at Margaery, (she had been romantically linked to him) but she just looked at Brienne apologetically. "I'm sorry, Loras do you want to go and freshen up?" It was phrased like a question but there was no escaping it was a command. Loras blinked as if he suddenly emerged from underwater and stood up and left with his mother in tow. Willas began telling a funny story and they all laughed again and smiled. Brienne again felt as if she had stepped into a family where all the members were modelled to become the best version of themselves and were in perfect harmony with others. But it was crinkling, the pages no longer smooth and shiny. Their politeness and charm were still apparent in abundance but the smiles were a little fixed, Margaery's brown eyes anxious. They may have smoothed over Loras' blip excellently but they couldn't rewrite the past. Perhaps she should try and separate him from the others to glean more information. He was emotional and a little rash but there could be something there. An awareness that she was being watched crept up on her. She turned slightly to look at the Lannisters, (where she felt the gaze as she had been turned towards Margaery), still in the centre but none were looking at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, I was on holiday. The rest of the first night will be posted soon.

**Author's Note:**

> It is the first time I have ever done this so I'm sorry if I messed up the tagging or something. Please tell me what you think.   
All characters belong to George R.R Martin.


End file.
